


The Scientist and the CEO

by TigStripe



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alcohol, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 2, Canon Divergence, Drunk Oliver Queen, Loss, M/M, Mild Angst, Pining, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigStripe/pseuds/TigStripe
Summary: When Barry Allen arrives on the scene to help the SCPD with an unbelievable case at Queen Consolidated, it evokes memories of Oliver's self-induced exile to a secluded port town, where he met a plucky man looking for the impossible.Canon divergence: how Barry and Oliver met





	The Scientist and the CEO

**Author's Note:**

> Spawned by the Flarrowverse Shipyard discussion rooms.
> 
> You know who you are.

Queen Consolidated had been compromised. The Applied Science Division had been broken into, and the police were swarming the targeted warehouse. Oliver and his team had collected, as well, curious as to how such a high security locale could have been *rammed into* so easily. John had gone to work studying the point of entry alongside a couple of cops, while Oliver and Felicity spoke with Officer Lance regarding the situation.

“It just hasn’t been your couple of weeks,” Lance muttered at Oliver.

“What do we know?” Oliver asked.

“Well, the video surveillance only shows one guy,” the SCPD tech officer explained. “I think the rest of his crew came in once he took out the camera.”

“Great. So we have no way of identifying them?” Lance asked. His cohort shook his head and stalked away.

Oliver crouched down to examine the setup that had been torn off its hinges and stolen as Lance pulled Felicity to the side.

He looked around and lowered his voice. “You might want to let our _mutual friend_ in on this,” he said.

Felicity gave a reassuring smile. “Believe me, I think he’s already on it.”

John approached the setup as Oliver stood back up. “I just don’t get how they got in, Oliver. I guess if there was a whole crew, it would make more sense, but-”

“There _was_ only one guy.”

The voice was crisp. Clear. Mid-range, a low tenor. But something in the back of Oliver’s mind started blaring warning klaxons. The four of them turned to face this new voice only to see a lanky young man with swept up hair and a rather goofy grin plastered across his face standing in a cordoned off area of the warehouse. In his hand was a heavy-looking briefcase. As he approached, Oliver felt heat rising in his cheeks. What was it about this guy that was eliciting such a response?

“Hi,” the newcomer called as he approached the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” Lance asked, his hand placed on his weapon.

“Oh. Barry. Barry Allen. I’m with the Central City Police Department’s crime scene investigations unit. My captain sent me to help with this scene this morning. I would have been here earlier,” he continued, but Oliver wasn’t paying attention to his words anymore.

There was something _very_ familiar about this kid. Why was he having such a problem remembering-

“Wait. Tommy?”

Barry’s voice shocked Oliver out of his reverie. The billionaire shook it off and looked over at Barry in earnest this time. “Sorry. Oliver Queen. You must have me mistaken with someone else.”

A nervous hand reached up and scratched the back of Barry’s neck. “No, it’s definitely you. I _knew_ you lied about your name.”

Oliver’s brow knitted together as he shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

Barry’s expression fell into a frown that pained Oliver to see. “Three months ago? Maine? You told me your name was Tommy. You really don’t remember?”

Oliver’s breathing stopped as he suddenly recalled where he’d seen this man before.

 

Three months ago…

 

“Another, please,” Oliver called to the bartender. All he got was a grunt in response. The bar was practically empty at this hour, which was perfectly fine by Oliver’s standards. He’d come to Seal Cove to get away, after all. He downed another glass faster than was probably healthy, letting the burn cleanse his throat, his palette, and his memory. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was the rebar sticking through Tommy’s chest, the dust and flames licking up around them in the crumbled CNRI office. The look in Tommy’s eye as he took his last breath, thanking him for not killing Malcolm.

Oliver shuddered and downed another shot.

“I think it’s time you walked off some of that, brother,” the bartender said. “You’ve already paid your tab, why don’t you go lie down for a spell, eh?”

Oliver shook his head. It was a good idea, but closing his eyes would only…

...He looked around. When did he get outside the bar? Confused, Oliver just shrugged and headed for the bed and breakfast at which he’d registered. The air was chilly, as to be expected from an oceanside town in northern Maine, but Oliver liked it. It was sobering, and cleared his head, allowing him to choose what he focused on.

As he passed a small alleyway between two buildings, the sound of a muffled struggle reached Oliver’s ear. He stopped and looked down the alley to see a lanky young man in a probably-too-light jacket pressed up against the wall of one of the buildings by a stockier guy with a knife in one hand and the other hand pressed up against his victim’s mouth. The knife glinted in the afternoon sunlight, further sobering Oliver.

A fire lit in Oliver’s belly that quickly rose up to overtake his chest and face. He balled his fists and took a step forward. “Hey!” His voice was clear and deep, a direct attempt at intimidation.

The mugger stopped and looked for the source of the voice, as did his victim, whose eyes were wide with fear. “This don’t concern you,” the mugger hissed. “Stay outta this.”

In the blink of an eye, Oliver had dashed the length of the alleyway and was sailing through the air in a loose jump kick that slammed square into the mugger’s shoulder. The man went toppling away from his victim, who nearly collapsed to the ground from the sudden freedom.

“Are you alright?” Oliver asked as the skinnier man scrambled to place Oliver between him and the mugger.

“I-I’m okay.”

Oliver turned back to the mugger, who had returned to his feet. He brandished the knife, as menacing as he could muster. Oliver just stared him down, his features set tight and his eyes deadly focused. The mugger made the first move, but Oliver was prepared. He leaned back to avoid a thrust to the face before grabbing the outstretched wrist and slamming his open palm into the wrong side of the mugger’s knife arm. A sickening crunch filled the alleyway as the man’s humerus snapped in two. The knife dropped from his hand as he clutched his arm and screamed, but Oliver snatched the blade out of midair and used the momentum from his sudden grab to spin around and raise it up to the thief’s throat.

The mugger whimpered, still clutching his arm close, then turned tail and dashed down the alley to get as far away from this man as he could.

Oliver turned to face the victim and helped him to his feet. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you,” the man replied, his voice shaky. “That was bad ass, by the way. What was that, kung fu?”

Oliver shrugged, his face expressionless. “How did he get you in this alley by yourself?”

“Oh, I’m alone,” the man said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Oh, I’m Barry.” He whipped a hand out to shake hands, but Oliver just nodded. “You look familiar.”

“I have one of those faces,” Oliver said.

Barry shook his head. “No, I definitely know you. You’re Oliver Queen, aren’t you?”

“Never heard of him.”

Barry chuckled. “Okay, then. What should I call my gallant savior, then?”

“Tommy.”

“Alright, ‘Tommy,’ can I buy you a drink or something? Maybe a coffee?”

“You really don’t have to do that. I was just-”

Barry shook his head. “Nope. You saved my life. I’m not going to just walk away from this without repaying you somehow. Come on. Let me at least say thank you.”

Oliver sighed. This kid was stubborn, and that was coming from _him._ “Fine. One drink. Just not the bar two doors down. He cut me off already today.”

Barry hitched an eyebrow. “I’m impressed. It’s only three in the afternoon.”

“Yup. I’m here alone, too. For a reason. Now, about that drink?”

“Right. I know another bar nearby, and it’s on my list of places to go.”

 

The next bar was a tad livelier than Oliver’s previous stop, which suited Barry just fine. After he ordered Oliver’s drink, he started asking the patrons and bartender questions about some guy who could “talk to fish.” Oliver didn’t really know what was going on, and he didn’t really care. The whole purpose of this little excursion was to stare at the bottom of liquor glasses until he didn’t see Tommy’s face every time he took a breath.

“No luck,” Barry sighed as he sat back down across the table from Oliver. “You know anything about a dude talking to fish? You’re not from here, so I doubt it.”

“Nope.”

“You’ve been drinking all day, huh?”

“Mm hm.”

Barry leaned on the table. “Tommy, do you wanna talk about it?”

Oliver took another shot. “Nope.”

“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, talking to a stranger can be cathartic, so I hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around? I’ve got a few more stops to make before I call it a day.”

“More bars?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

Oliver gestured a little shakily at their surroundings. “Taverns and bars are the best place for the bits you wanna know.”

Barry sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

Oliver looked Barry up and down as he sulked in his chair over not being able to figure out this mystery or something. He wasn’t sure. But one thing was certain: Barry wasn’t capable of handling himself in all these bars, if almost getting successfully mugged by some pathetic knife-wielding dunce was any indication. He couldn’t just leave Barry alone, could he?

Oliver’s hand slammed on the table, making Barry jump. “I’ll go with you.”

“What? Why?”

Oliver shrugged. “Bars means drinks. Right now, I like drinks.”

“I dunno, Tommy. You’ve had a lot already.”

Oliver leaned forward and pointed at Barry’s nose. “You’re not my father. _My_ father is dead. I’m an adult, and I can handle myself. And my liquor.”

“Obviously,” Barry said, eyeing Oliver’s somewhat slouched posture in concern. “I guess I can make sure you don’t pass out face down in a drainage pipe somewhere if you come with me.”

“See? I look out for you, you look out for me,” Oliver laughed. “Let’s go. We’ve got a fish-talker man to find.”

 

Oliver had not intended to drink _this_ much today. Barry’s plan involved bar hopping to four more additional establishments before calling it quits. By the second one, Oliver started ordering water. As they left the fourth bar (or was it the fifth?) bar, Barry sighed.

“No one. How can _no one_ have seen the guy I’m talking about? _This_ was the town the reports mentioned!”

“Sorry, Barry.” Oliver’s balance was a little compromised, but he was still holding together. At this point, he wanted to make sure Barry got back to wherever he was staying without incident, and he couldn’t pass out before then.

Barry surveyed their surroundings on the pier and pointed to a quaint little cottage on the top of a nearby hill. “That’s the B&B I’m registered at. I can get there from here by myself. You gonna be okay?”

“That’s where I’m registered, too,” Oliver said. He laughed. “That’s awesome. I can walk you home!”

Barry laughed as well. “Like a date, huh?”

“Mm hm.” Oliver was smiling, letting the buzz pull at his mouth.

“Oh. Just for good measure. I’ll be right back.” Barry jogged down to the end of a nearby dock to make one last inquiry. Oliver watched him address an absolute monster of a man, tall, long black hair, with arms that made Diggle look like a toddler. As Oliver wavered there, his eyebrows raised in an impressed stupor. The man shook his head and gave Barry a thumbs up before he turned back to staring out at the ocean, leaving Barry to trudge less enthusiastically back to Oliver.

“Eh, it was a no go,” Barry said.

“I can see that man’s tattoos from here,” Oliver said, squinting. “And his facial hair.”

The two slowly made their way to the bed and breakfast at the top of the hill, Barry making sure to assist Oliver with any steps they encountered. Oliver didn’t think he was that far gone, but hey, who was he to judge?

They approached the front door. Barry turned to Oliver with a warm smile across his face. “Hey, Tommy, thanks for sticking with me.”

Oliver smiled back, but he didn’t know if he smiled too big. One can never be sure with smiles. “It was fun. It was kind of like a date.”

“Oh. Really? Do you go bar hopping with random guys you meet on dates?”

“Only the ones I meet in Maine.”

They both laughed. Barry’s hand scratched at the back of his neck. “I, uh, guess I did have a pretty good time. I even got a couple selfies, right?”

Oliver nodded. “You can keep those, but don’t share ‘em, okay? I don’t want people to know I was here.”

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay. Sure.” He shifted his weight, pulling closer to Oliver. “Again, I’m really glad you came with me.”

Oliver grinned. When did Barry get so close? His eyes were...wow. What color was that? He’d better be careful or their noses were going to collide.

Their lips met in a tender embrace, both men closing their eyes as they took in what was happening. Oliver grabbed onto Barry’s arms as they stood there. It wasn’t a long kiss, but the tingling on Oliver’s lips lingered. As they broke apart, Oliver smiled.

“That was nice,” he said, his voice low, “but you already thanked me for the mugger with those drinks.”

Barry frowned. “Sorry?”

“The kiss. It was payment, right? I accept.” Oliver grinned.

The frown deepened. “Tommy, I kissed you because I think you’re handsome and kickass and I enjoyed spending the day with you. You said it was like a date, yourself.”

Oliver’s grin disappeared. “Oh. I’m sorry, Barry. I, didn’t really think of you as a _date_ date.”

Barry sighed. “Of course not.”

“I think you’re great, but-”

“Okay.”

Barry opened the front door and stepped inside, but not before casting a tentative glance back at Oliver. Oliver moved a couple of fingers in what was supposed to be a wave, but he was too rooted to the spot to pull off anything more. Soon, he was alone, standing in the chill air. For some reason, the chill bothered Oliver more than before.

 

Present Day…

 

Oliver felt ill. He stared at Barry in disbelief, his stomach flipping end over end. He gave a smile that felt far more resolute than he himself felt. “Ah. _Barry._ Right.”

Barry nodded, his grin returning to his face. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t expect to...well, I guess I kind of did expect to see you again, I just didn’t really expect to be coming to Star City any time soon. This _is_ Queen Consolidated, and you _are_ Oliver Queen. And yes, I knew you were lying, I just went with it.” He pulled out his phone. “I still have those selfies, you know.”

Oliver cocked his head and closed his eyes for a moment. “That really won’t be necessary, Barry.”

Felicity eyed Oliver suspiciously. “Right. Well, maybe we should focus on the theft. Right?”

Everyone agreed.


End file.
